Worldly prophets, Gandhi, Sojourner Truth, Malala Yousafzai, Jesus, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Nelson Mandela, Benjamin Franklin, and Mother Teresa all got together at their weekly meeting in the third realm between time and space to discuss the state of the universe. It was Ben’s turn to lead.
“I feel like we need to come up with some more rules for people, and I think I’ve got one that’s even better than Jesus’s whole ‘Love thy neighbor’ thing. I’m gonna call this one, Gender. Gender: if you stand up to pee, you gotta really like fishing. If you sit down to pee, you’re gonna have to get your nails done every other Saturday.”
No one heard him because Mother Teresa had just told a hilarious joke, but he carved it into a rule stone anyway and threw it into the ether of the space-time continuum.
Once a rule stone was thrown into the ether the profits lost control over when the rule would take place and how.
In 1945, the stone fell from the sky through an energy vortex in Sedona, Arizona. A Red-Winged Blackbird picked it up and dispersed pieces of the stone in Dallas, Philadelphia, and Los Angeles.
Anyone who came near the stone would either immediately fill a pail with worms and take it to the closest body of water, or they would schedule a nail appointment for “Not this Saturday but the next.”
In the US, Gender quickly spread like a spilled bottle of OPI. As it grew, it mutated form. People who liked fishing began to also like cars, meat lovers’ pizzas, explosions, and tracing grains of wood with their fingers. People who got their nails done every other Saturday also began to develop an affinity for Norah Jones, running exactly one mile, ferns, and tuna salads with light mayonnaise.
As it seeped into the pores of society, Gender made less and less sense, and it appeared differently in every country. Yet toy makers and some spiritual leaders became very adamant that everyone stick to the rules.
The worldly prophets called an emergency meeting.
“This is embarrassing,” said Gandhi.
“Great job, Ben,” said Nelson Mandela through a snide slow clap.
“I know! Make it stop! Someone, please, make it stop!” cried Ben.
“Silence!” Ruth Bader Ginsburg beckoned. “I will send forth an army of young crusaders who will identify mostly as gender-neutral. I will call them, Gen Z.”
“No matter if they are male, female, man, or woman, they will wear fanny packs, Doc Martens, and coveralls–so social critique of their figures will be practically impossible.”
With this declaration, Ruth Bader Ginsburg tossed the Gen Z rule stone into the ether, hoping it would ease the mass confusion on Earth.
“Thank you, Ruth. Thank you, for your wisdom,” Ben wept. “Maybe people will write books about dismantling Gender, and those books can be placed in public libraries. Remember when I created public libraries in the US? That shall be the one rule stone of which I will remain forever proud. Maybe people, regardless of their identity, will gather together in a library as one.”
Unfortunately, no one heard him because Mother Teresa had just told another hilarious joke.